Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Chile and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Idris Muhammad to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Detroit Cobras,
David McCallum,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
Marine Girls,
Parry Music,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
Alice Coltrane,
Yazoo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sound Behaviour,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Terry,
Sparks,
Khruangbin,
Derrick May,
Procol Harum,
Fad Gadget,
Marvin Gaye,
X-Ray Spex,
Michelle Simonal,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David Bowie,
Davy DMX,
Massinfluence,
Grauzone,
Moebius,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Technova,
T.S.O.L.,
Agent Orange,
Zapp,
Spoonie Gee,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
Blossom Toes,
L. Decosne,
Terry Callier,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Erasure,
PIL,
Oblivians,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Almond,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Fraelich,
Bluetip,
Rod Modell,
Colin Newman,
Thee Headcoats,
Motorama,
John Holt,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.